Monthly Archives: July 2017

It’s a big universe, but when you don’t want to be found, it can feel very small. Rosemary has given up a lot for her new start aboard the Wayfarer, a ship in the business of building hyperspace tunnels. The eccentric crew, from the chaotic techs to the affectionate AI who keeps everything running, seem only too happy to welcome her aboard. When the Wayfarer is offered an extraordinary opportunity to build a tunnel longer than any they’ve ever built before, to a planet only recently accepted into the Galactic Commons, how could they possibly say no? But a long journey means a long time for secrets to come out, and that’s without really knowing what is waiting for them at the end…

This is Becky Chambers’ first novel and it is a delight. The worldbuilding is fascinating, detailed and original, with an interesting take on the role humans play in a wider galaxy. This is really an ensemble story, alternating between the perspectives of the whole Wayfarer crew, who are a charming motley of personalities and cultures. The plot is a little disjointed, with the chapters feeling more episodic than sequential, and there was one aspect of the ending that I found very frustrating, as the solution felt disrespectful to the characters involved, but this is the first book in a series and therefore I suppose it hasn’t really ended yet. The story continues in A Close and Common Orbit, which I shall definitely be reading.

In this collection of winter romances, the holidays bring people together…and break them apart. Whether it’s putting on the dress for a winter party or donning a mask to disappear into a revel, reconnecting with an old love or reaching out to a stranger, this is a time for wishes, and change.

As an Australian, there is something fundamentally a bit disconcerting about Christmas stories set in winter, however used to reading them I am, and of course when it comes to holiday fiction, the level of schmaltz you’re looking for is a variable thing. Some of these stories were definitely too sentimental for my taste, but others had a lovely grounded warmth and sincerity that really appealed to me. While Christmas was the dominant theme, there were a variety of other holidays celebrated throughout the collection. My favourites included Rainbow Rowell’s ‘Midnights’, Kelly Link’s ‘The Lady and the Fox’, ‘It’s a Yuletide Miracle, Charlie Brown’ by Stephanie Perkins (a sequel to which appears in the collection Summer Days, Summer Nights) and ‘Krampuslauf’ by Holly Black.

In her second book, artist Sarah Andersen explores social anxiety, female friendships, sweater theft, the borrowing of cats and how to avoid responsibility by hiding under a blanket. Including illustrated personal essays and comic snapshots of incredibly relatable problems, this collection is as brutally honest as it is hilarious.

I’d seen Andersen’s comics online before and enjoyed them, and this collection was just as good as I expected. Andersen tackles subjects from a distinctly female perspective, which is very refreshing, and her art style is charmingly bouncy. Her first book was Adulthood is a Myth.

The Westing house has stood empty for years. It can be seen from the new apartment complex of Sunset Towers, where the residents of each flat are unaware that they were handpicked to be exactly where they are – unaware that in fact, their new homes are the chosen setting for the eccentric Sam Westing’s last game, which begins at his funeral. His chosen heirs are all in line for a life-changing prize of millions. First, though, they have to solve his clues. With neighbours set at odds and families now rival competitors, the game is about much more than money…and Westing is not a man who ever loses.

The Westing Game is an intricate knot of a mystery, with a strong cast of complex characters. Though the book contains some unfortunate racist and ableist language typical to the time period (and generally within character of those using it), there a deliberate and thoughtful exploration of how people are much more complicated than they may initially come across – in good ways and bad. My one complaint would be that I found the ending just a little bit too glib, but despite that, it was satisfying and a very clever piece of writing.

This post may be slightly influenced by the existence of the Wonder Woman movie, which contains comic book Amazons backflipping off shields and whacking people with axes. It is not faithful to Greek mythology, obviously, nor is it intended to be, but it’s nonetheless a delight to see my ladies of legend on the big screen. Especially when they are setting things on fire.

The Amazons were a race of warrior women, believed to be a real civilisation in ancient times. They originally lived beside the Amazon River, led by their matriarch Lysippe, but Aphrodite took against Lysippe’s son Tanais for favouring war over love. Spitefully, Aphrodite caused him to become obsessed with his own mother. Tanais threw himself in the river, and Lysippe led her family away into the mountains, where they founded the city of Themiscyra.

The set-up of Amazonian society was strictly divided by gender. The Amazons were said to abandon their sons at birth, only keeping the girls. When men were tolerated, they were confined to the domestic sphere and to ensure their obedience, the legs of boys were broken while they were very young. The women fought and ruled.

The Amazons were supposedly the first to use cavalry in battle. Lysippe and her daughters founded an empire and later Amazonian queens – including Marpesia, Lampado and Hippo – continued that tradition by conquering their way across Asia Minor. At one point they seized the city of Troy, though they were in the end unable to hold it.

They worshipped Ares, the god of war, and the hunting goddess Artemis. They carried bows and half-moon shields, and performed shield dances in Artemis’ honour. It was said that they cut off their right breasts to improve their skill at archery, which I feel only makes sense if your baseline assumption is that archers shouldn’t have breasts at all.

One of the most famous Amazon queens was Hippolyta. She was the daughter of Ares and Otrera, who was daughter of the east wind and a queen of the Amazons herself. It was, in fact, a family of queens – Hippolyta’s sisters Antiope and Melanippe ruled with her over the three principal cities of their land, and her other sister Penthesilea became her successor after Hippolyta’s death.

As a symbol of her authority, Hippolyta wore a golden, jewel-encrusted girdle, a gift from Ares himself. One day the Princess Admete, daughter of King Eurystheus, decided she would quite like to own that magical girdle, and as her father just so happened to have the hero Heracles in his service at the time, the odds of her getting her wish were quite high. Heracles was undertaking labours as a penance for killing his family. The labours usually involved killing other people. Nobody has ever claimed the Pantheon are consistent in their morality. Heracles brought a band of warriors into Amazonian territory to either convince or force Hippolyta to give up her treasure.

At first, it seemed Hippolyta might give up the girdle of her own free will, after she took a fancy to Hercules’ muscle-bound body. So the goddess Hera, who compelled Heracles to start his twelve labours and work for King Eurystheus in the first place, decided to stir up some trouble. She disguised herself as an Amazon and spread a rumour that Heracles and his warriors had really come to kidnap Hippolyta. The queen’s warriors attacked.

In one version, Heracles gave up his pretence at diplomacy, killed Hippolyta and seized the girdle. In another, Melanippe was the sister held captive by Heracles, and the girdle was a ransom Hippolyta paid to get her back. In a third, Hippolyta fought Heracles, and died rather than surrender.

Theseus of Athens (killer of the Minotaur, future king, reliably a cad towards women) was present in Heracles’ company of warriors. Among the plethora of alternate stories is one in which Theseus declared a passionate love for Hippolyta and took her away with him to Athens. They had a son together, Hippolytus. When Theseus decided, inevitably, to put Hippolyta aside and marry Ariadne’s sister Phaedra instead, the outraged Amazons descended upon the wedding party. During the confusion, Penthesileia delivered Hippolyta an accidental killing blow. There is also an account in which Heracles and Theseus are not involved at all; Hippolyta was hunting deer with Penthesileia when the gods sent a capricious wind, and Penthesileia’s spear struck her sister instead.

One thing is certain: Hippolyta died, and Penthesileia inherited her crown.

Penthesileia was a great archer (the trick to it being that she cut off both her breasts). She was also credited with inventing the battle-axe. The fact that Hippolyta’s death was an accident did not stop the Furies from pursuing her killer, so Penthesleia took refuge in the city of Troy. During the war with the Greeks, she fought to defend the city. So formidable a warrior was she that even Achilles fell back when she took to the field.

In the end, he was the one who killed her. Just to make the whole thing unbearably creepy, he fell in love with her the moment he stabbed her, and in one version, had sex with her corpse. A Greek warrior called Thersites then gouged out her eyes, and Achilles responded to the desecration by punching him so hard he died. Thersites’ cousin took revenge on Achilles by throwing Penthesleia’s body in a river.

She was buried eventually – in one account, by Achilles, in another, by the grateful Trojans. Achilles made sacrifices to Apollo, Artemis and Leto in penance for Penthesleia’s death.

As with so many women of myth and legend, Hippolyta and Penthesleia’s stories have sad endings. But myths, you know, have a special immortality: with every different version that is told, they live again. And so the Amazons are reborn, battle-axes and all.

These stories vary wildly depending on time and teller – I work with the sources I have to hand but if you know an alternative version I would love to hear it!